cold front near
evergreens sense chill
waving in dark..
imagining
becoming
one evergreen
those branches
needles..
bracing
for chill…

With anxiety in the land and

On the ballot..there is also

Leadership concealed on that

Scroll of instruction and choices..

Let us say that Opening/closing

Are choices..hiding the Choice..

And it follows..

Leadership is the waking

To know:  the Choice arrives

Before the choice...

On this Eve
she is there
etching those many
dark lines outlining
what appears as
so many separations..
Those many names
inns without rooms
the frivolous and fancy
of passing generations..
Yet there is
the generous background
the light that shines
before the etchings
darken the light..
Except for glimpses
outside the inns...

Christmas Tidings..!

Beneath a story many celebrate

Of a birth beneath a star..

There lies a latch..when

Opened..will set us free..

On this celebrated night

The Truth..apparently hidden

And remaining hidden now

Was unlatched for those then

And now..

~One-being-all-there-is~

This simple news about what

Has always been..That's it..!

Christmas Tidings..!

motorcars and cycles
weaving the fabric
of surround sound..
a dog barks
a honking horn
distant siren
these cut the fabric
offer their names..
is this picture
a dark iteration
of the Field
with creation
interrupting...

Seems
to be missing
In the clutter
of so much traffic..
And loudly repeats
When we strive to
Escape or remove..

Somehow
the need arises to
Recognize Clarity
As foremost..
Lurking behind all clutter
And allowing the clutter
To dance its short dance
On Clarity's bright stage...

We've
witnessed the hearings
with many concluding:
she said..he said..
Such expressions seem
as uttered through many
shaded lenses..

Our way
of knowing the world
as Two and not One
will quickly provide
a shaded vision
until
the shades are recognized
for what they can be:
the color and beauty
of difference in our
seeming creation..

Returning
to the hearings
with cleaner lenses
we see the varying
shades and colors
of thought and emotion
pervading the talking
and the One
seems quite hidden..

A sign of caution:
Justice
is best served
through cleaner lenses...!

The flood
of information
Finding our doors
disconcerting times
My example today
client is relationship
bulletin is focus
constricting the flood
discovering inner light?
That message alone
Meaning before trash!
Steganography?
(Look it up!)

there is a clinging
a proneness to dismiss
an intimation of
mind over matter..
separation as ego
rises up and protests
this interruption to
long-held comfort..
another win and
the world proceeds
on tenuous paths
of longing with fear..
yet mind over matter
is only known by
experience of our
identity with an
eternal substance
of which all is molded
and named as both
longing and grace...!

on a raw damp winter day
a haircut
a cozy coffee place
with a special:
warm biscuits and gravy..
this cluster of morning
memories presented itself
on an afternoon walk
in a still chill day..
the remembered cluster
a coloring of present
awareness
embellished now by feet
pacing on a wet roadway..
remembering
perceiving
sensing
melting to knowing
and the Self
reveals...

We like to remove what seems
Blocking our view..clutter..
Moving one thing aside so
To better see another..
We exercise this preference
And reinforce our belief
In life's separations..
Bringing ancient suffering..
Until a dawning recognition:
Suffering is a hint from
Grace..a gentle prompt:
See that your Seeing
Is always uncluttered...

Grace
is the substance of
All that is
In our tendency
To see separation in
All that is
Grace appears as
Suffering
Coaxing  a new
Seeing...

First of all
we reset..knowing I Am..
lingering there
as the light transparent..
Then to return
to the place never left:
that seeming world
of every-thing..
And the Wholeness
I Am
adds morning coloration...

Our daily concessions
to those illusionary
separate selves:
lifetimes of weekdays
in working worlds
these convince us
that we know all
there is to know..
But for those hints
which simply arrive
midst all the toil:
we cry out
now I Know...

Conditioning

Is what we all

Carry along with us..

All of those boundaries

And attitudes toward

What confines and frees..

Then to discover..or not

That Freedom is overlooked

In our life as lived...

an oval antique photograph
from the century just passed
six youthful brothers
must be sunday dressed
exuding life and promise
facing forward all in line
symmetry pervading
sister mary in their center

on the photos right
a startling recognition
an image seen before
colins great grandfather
raymond often ray
in features and a gaze
seemed as colin
would have stood

photo has a crease
fading but still clear
now with photos recent
privileged to compare
colin next to ray
both fully present
yet a gaze away

rays gaze anticipating
army time in paris
fortune seeking in the west
fortunes to be found
four generations branching
to colin and beyond

colins gaze capturing
a journey now beginning
does he see montana paris
or the stars
repeating patterns forward
reflect photographic truth

music completes the pattern
with colorings of sound
rays trumpet and harmonica
introducing a guitar
which colin has absorbed

thus in his confirmation
new dimensions
now foreseen
confirming four generations
reflecting many more
expanding light and love
carrying our gratitude
for the glimpse
an old photograph
favored us
to find

(poem written for my grandson's
confirmation....)

Of vital importance
in this our time's moment..
To realize
with living transparency
the only-ness
of Consciousness..
Separation dissolves
in the realizing
and is superseded now
with uncaused joy...

Not obvious
Nature's
other dimension..
but with hesitation
there appear
pointers
and similarities
quick vistas of
Singularity..
These glimpses
behind fragments
are new experiences:
slight altered states
of consciousness..
quiet stimulants
of fleeting joy..
In remaining day
expectations rise
for finding more
cracks in that
Conspiracy...

Conspiracy Theories..

The assumption at the core

Is that of separation..

And fear of the unknown..

An unknown that towers

As a threat to our peace..

Good versus evil..and

Believers and non-believers..

Small crumbs of truth

Coincide and confirm..

Large proofs of denial

Paradoxically align..

The cure..?

Simply a Self-Inquiry

Of thoughts and perceptions

To allow: the Recognition of

Self as Truth..

A gathering of
light
allows life in
full
experiencing our day
our doings
and goings
as constricting but
holding
the light bringing
fulfillment
ecstasy.

We compose our
poems
each unique voice
from our source
experience of life
ebb and flow..
finding our words
do they speak
to the poet alone..?
or need we
constrict
find a clarity
to converse
favoring those..
not to forget
our original flow
elevating restoring
a unique soul...

When the knowing
is duality..conversation roams
over fields of facts with connections
as arising..these connects may point
to embracing non-duality..which some say
should have been the beginning knowing ..
Mis-connects spread..separation rules..
red emotions rise with the exchanging heat
and in some domains..blood streaks the floor..!
Non-duality apparently must be tasted
and tasted again..to savor its humble flavor
cleansing those doors of perception
simply knowing not-knowing...!

Conversations display variations seeming as

Splitting wholeness..prismatic they are..joyful

Prismatically..without attachment.. as

Wholeness appears as glorious variety..

However..there is the attachment thing..the golden calf

Hiding the whole..hatching rancor and stomach knots..

World history thus resuming in each conversation..

All of this seems so..until we kinda back away:

Prismatic joy and golden calf..a storied split..

Are still wholeness appearing as this and that..

The eye of
his camera in
timeless juxtapose  
finds the meaning
of the life
we live..
two children
emerging from a
dark forest place
find a lighted
garden of discovery..
A country doctor
braces from wind
rendering service to
those caught in
that same forest..
his wish to
rescue childhood
which now weighs
distant and dim...

do we know
that words and language
create cracks..and
we might be held hostage
to words and language
without knowing their
propensity to crack..

it is the crack of an eggshell
an eggshell of whiteness
allowing life to emerge..
whiteness appears to divide
shaping the world and us
with distinctions galore..

we work with distinctions
as each finds her own..
yet..within each journey
we are invited to
observe once more
a white eggshell
and to notice how words
seem to crack
what cannot be cracked..

then to notice.. cracks
appear and disappear
demonstrating for all
the strength and weakness
indeed the beauty
of our words...

Creation happens
when the words
come from Silence
and the poet
recognizes
her words express
the Silence
from which they
spring...

This black being making
A gas station appearance
Intersection traffic
Horns and lights
Sunset shortly
Walking stone to stone..
Ignoring noisy polluted
Starts and stops..
A stoic warrior
In our time of
Heedless searching..

Then he flew and I
Transcended his moment...

There are many
forms of prayer
of meditation
wishing to reach
and stimulate
the Divine..
The warnings:
of a Plan
of false humility
of slippery ego's
hidden goals..
Yet it seems
when our filtering
is complete
only this remains:
intention Centering
in the pain
yours and theirs..
And then simply
Crying out…!

With a question:
Who is Crying…?

Cultish leanings

There is attachment to

The mysteries of life

Embodied..seemingly in

A pedestaled attraction..

Add beliefs of import and

Shadowed conspiracies..

A religion start-up..?

All dismantled by inquiry

Into the Self we are...

generous and expanding
white's brilliant reflection..
many shaded towers
edges enclose with
high definition..
sometimes
a precursor to unwelcome
beauty..
hailstones
waterspouts
tornados..
we too
accumulate faces...

curtains

the curtain torn
is the light exposed..
as centurions all
we carry dark curtains
concealing our light..
exposure might come
with shock and awe
or right now
in a quiet pause...

Our remembering today
Of that day and days..
Slaying and blood
Drenched absorbed media..
Loss was personal
Tears were deep
Shared with many..
Shadow appearance on
A national soul..
Yet the shadow
Briefly edged unity
For many enduring
On that day…

After last manicure
preparation for guests
concern for
their notice of
most careful work..
Yet something was
hidden concealed from
close diligence..
With the sun
a yellow explosion
just that single one..
deep yellow glory
a message of
imperfection
in quick rising
Joy...

Each of us creates
that which appears..
This truth startles
yet attracts our daring..
Each longs to be free
of Newton's hold
but such freedom is
named as folly..
So we remain
waiting for grace
to bless our daring...

The leaves have fallen leaving dark lines
reaching skyward in praise of a new season..
These dark thin lines leave room for the passage
of light lifting the veiling of summer leaves..
We see more directly that the light beyond
penetrates and surrounds us here..
Our infinite essence breaks through..
is remembered...